


Thirst Contact

by beetlebee



Category: Naruto
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, F/M, Fade to Black, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mold monsters, Romance, Serious to Silly, Survival Horror, bad space science, it's like three different space alien movies all at the same time, very heavily implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 02:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20107525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetlebee/pseuds/beetlebee
Summary: Two shining, reflecting eyes are staring right at Kakashi. It’s a person, at first glance, holding some kind of ring of fire. Kakashi opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the person steps closer, and he realizes that the ring of fire seems to be dancing along his shoulders, where protrusions—tendrils—are breaking through from the skin. The skin itself is pale, green tinged, and speckled with scales along the being's right side. Which is nothing compared to the horns sticking straight out of his head. Or the—wow, the *incredible* lack of clothing.This alien seals it: Kakashi's absolutely high. And should maybe stop reading so much Icha Icha.----(Kakashi's crew goes to answer a distress signal on a seemingly abandoned satellite. And then the story goes in three wildly different directions.)





	Thirst Contact

“Good work, all,” Kakashi says as he pulls off his helmet, congratulating his crew on surviving another round of bullshit at the edges of the Fire Galaxy. No one died, either, and that’s always a bonus. 

“I can’t wait to be officially _ done _ with this mission and go home,” Raidou sighs, peeling off the jacket layer of his suit. Kakashi can’t help but silently agree, scrubbing at his hair to fluff it out again. They all have been off site of Konoha Station for weeks, and after more than a few skirmishes along the belt of Kiri, they’re ready for a well-deserved week off. 

They’re all at varied stages of haggard. Kurenai collapses in the nearest chair, as Asuma leans against the wall, sluggishly pawing his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. Genma’s sprawled out under a table, and Gai... well. Gai’s doing handstand pushups, but after seven years, Kakashi’s team is well used to his impossible energy levels. 

They get a blissful thirty minutes of peace. But then the siren cries out behind them and over half of the crew groans. An emergency response is the last thing they all need after such a grueling shift. 

“What is it?” asks Kakashi, ignoring the grumbles of his crew and moving over to where Genma is already sliding into a seat at the control helm. 

“It’s a distress signal,” Genma says, not bothering to look away from the screen as he scans through the alert message. “500 miles out from us into the Uzu moon’s orbit.” 

A distress signal. Shit. “And it’s coming from what? A ship? A satellite?” Kakashi presses, as he hears Asuma mutter a curse behind him. 

“Hmm,” Genma squints, reading the exact frequency. “Satellite,” he confirms after a moment. “But... it’s not the universal distress code.”

“A satellite?” Aoba calls over from where he’s already scrolling through that day’s communications feed. “I’m looking through the flight and orbit logs. Nothing should be over there.” 

“An older satellite that didn’t get the memo, then. Or maybe it got knocked off course?”

“I mean _ nothing _ should be there,” Aoba insists, pushing up hs sunglasses. “This orbiting path and the ones around it are ear-marked for containing too much debris. The last satellite queued for any Uzu orbit was decades ago.”

And they all know why, considering their history.

“Hmm.” Kakashi considers other options. “What about a private satellite?” It’s possible, unfortunately, with enough wealth. If there’s one universal constant, it’s that some people simply have more money than sense. The allure of the moon of Uzushio could do that to a person.

Aoba shrugs, with a quirk of his lips. “If they’re an idiot.” 

“And we’re sure it’s a distress signal?” Asuma asks, skepticism in his voice. 

Genma frowns minutely, rolling the toothpick in his mouth. “Of course I’m sure. It might not be universal, but I’m familiar with enough patterns before the rollover into Signal Standardization. It’s recognizable.” 

“How do we know it’s not a trick?” Raidou asks. “Considering the Uzu Quadrant… it could be pirates. Or, like, an ax murderer.” 

Genma looks like he’s trying not to laugh, but covers it up with a cough when Raidou narrows his eyes at him. 

“I highly doubt it,” Asuma argues. “For all we know, no one’s out there and some frayed wiring in a junk satellite sent out an outdated signal in error.” 

“We need to check anyway,” Kakashi reminds them. “We can be cautious, but we can’t ignore any distress signal.” 

“Yosh!” Gai gives a big thumbs up. “If someone, anyone, is in need of rescue, we must help!” 

They all mutter reluctant affirmations at that. It’s near impossible to escape Gai’s enthusiasm; it has its own gravitational pull. 

Kakashi eye smiles. “Maa, since we’re all in agreement… change course to Uzu,” he commands. 

“Already on it,” Aoba confirms, pulling his chair back over to the main console to reconfigure their navigation settings. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Asuma sighs. “Let’s go get suited up. Again.” 

\----

“Holy shit, did you look at the projected blueprints of that thing?” Aoba says over the comm from the main ship, his voice breaking through the static. 

“Don’t remind us,” Asuma grumbles, steering the sub ship further into the debris. Aoba’s right, though: the predictive scan of the satellite provided less than ideal results. It’s a hell of a satellite. And definitely not a standard one. The outer walls alone appear thick enough to halt radio waves. They’ll be cut off from the outside from the get go. Beyond that, the layout is serpentine and spiralling, with no rhyme or reason to the pattern. 

Asuma takes it slow, weaving through the wreckage. Kakashi’s glad Kushina’s crew isn’t here for something like this; even 20 years on, the destruction left in the wake of the war on Uzushio’s moon is just as fresh and stark to witness.

“How can anyone live out here?” Kurenai murmurs, mostly to herself. 

“Please tell me we’re almost there,” Raidou pleads, leaning over the back of Asuma’s seat, looking out. 

“Almost—there, I see it,” says Asuma. He adjusts their trajectory and throttles the engine, aiming towards the underside of the satellite. The angle is good, and they just manage to arrest to the service bay, where they’re still able to dock. Though it looks neglected, the hydraulics of the bay doors thankfully appear to be in working order. 

Kakashi takes a quiet breath. “Ready, everyone?” he asks.

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” says Genma, and the rest of the team nods. 

“We’ll be right here waiting,” Aoba confirms, through the heavy static. The heavy outer door seals shut, and with that, any connection to the outside is cut off for the next few hours. 

The atmosphere of the satellite begins to reacclimate in the bay, and they feel the artificial gravity returning to the room. Their shoulders sag with the weight of it, and also with some relief. At least many of the life-supporting systems still work. 

The interior doors of the bay stutter up, and it opens up into a large, and largely empty, hall. Farther in, it splits into multiple directions. The signal is coming somewhere deep internally within the satellite. Without exact schematics, and the electrical interference, it’s a matter of simply searching the satellite until the signal is found. 

“What’s the plan, Captain?” Genma asks, as Kakashi’s crew turn to listen in. 

“We’ll go in pairs,” Kakashi decides. “At least to start. If we lose our local signal, we’ll at least have immediate back-up. We’ll reconvene here in three hours.” 

Part of Kakashi would rather not split up at all, but they don’t exactly have the luxury of time to search together. Besides, after so many years, he trusts in his team. They’re a durable bunch. 

They walk together down the bare hall, and Kakashi watches, reluctant, as their teams split off, one by one, into the adjoining hallways. Gai pats his shoulder, but doesn’t say anything as the two of them take the final hallway. 

Not even a few minutes in, Kakashi’s radio crackles to life. “This place is nothing but a ghost town,” Asuma comments over the local line, sounding a bit tinny. “I’m holding onto my crossed wire theory.” 

“My money’s on the ax murderer,” Genma adds in. 

“Mine is _ not _ on that,” Raidou groans. 

“Hmm, I’ll take pirates,” Kurenai teases. Then her voice sobers, adding, “There’s no way anyone is still alive here, is there? You think they’d be on the lookout after sending the signal, and waiting by the loading bay.” 

There’s a long pause at that. 

“We still need to look,” Kakashi reiterates, as much as he wants to agree. “As slim a chance as it might be.” 

“Besides, we’ve only just begun, my friends!” Gai adds. “Anything is possible.” 

Kakashi and Gai walk, quiet and careful, through the corridors together, searching for any signs of life. The signal is less than helpful, leading them into dead ends and empty, bare rooms. The place is truly like a labyrinth. But they keep looking, Gai holding both of their spirits up. 

After thirty minutes, the main hall splits into a T section, with the signal pointing at the bare wall. Either direction could be the wrong one; they have a decision to make. 

“Looks like it breaks here, rival.” Gai squints back and forth at each endless path of the hall. “Which way shall we go?” 

“Let’s split up,” Kakashi suggests. “We can check down each side and meet up back here if either of us finds something interesting.” 

“Can do! And take care, my rival,” Gai says, a serious undercurrent running beneath his large smile. “Do not hesitate to call if you need anything.” 

Kakashi pats the side holster on his thigh. “I’ll be fine, Gai. You take care, too.” 

“Wow, I feel sorry for any ax murderer here trying take either of you in a fight,” Genma comments over the line. 

“Please don’t joke about that, Shiranui,” Raidou replies, pained. 

Kakashi smiles a little, tuning out their antics and as he turns right, heading alone into the darkness. 

It’s another sea of nothing for a few minutes, the hall stretching on forever. He’s about ready to turn back when his portable light glints on something gold, and he realizes he’s abruptly come to the end of the hallway. Instead of a blank wall, this one is marked off by a large, ornate door, out of place in the rest of the satellite’s architecture so far. Kakashi tries the handle, and it’s thankfully unlocked. He peeks in. 

The hallway beyond the door starts to wind along further, in an arc. Oil paintings and facades of column archways bracket the walls. The paintings are faded, hanging angular, possibly giving way over time by weight of gravity. The marbled floor looks like it once may have had a shine to it, though the smooth surface is broken up by a few gouge marks. The occasional table and lounge chair lining the hall looks like it could be expensive. It’s certainly ugly enough to be. 

“I think we can rule out pirates,” Kakashi says into his comm, eyeing the intact gold trim everywhere as he steps through the door. “Look.” He briefly switches on viewshare of his camera, hoping the image goes through. Someone whistles low, impressed. 

“No pirates, then. That just leaves the ax murderers,” Genma cheerfully retorts. He can hear Asuma and Kurenai snickering over the comm. 

“Too bad,” Kurenai laughs, “there goes my bet.” 

“Ha ha,” Raidou replies, flat. “I’m just saying it _ could _ happen.” 

Kakashi’s only a few more meters down the hall when his radio begins to crackle and whine. This area seems too insulated for even a local frequency. “Hatake here. I’m hitting a dead zone. I might go quiet for a few minutes,” he warns over the party line. 

Kurenai’s voice breaks in over the noise. “Hatake, are you sure on going alone? You can wait for one of us to meet you.” 

“I’ll be fine, Yuhi. If there’s anything noteworthy I’ll double back and call for backup,” he assures them. 

The hallway begins to slope, and takes him to the top of a grand staircase, with a gold handrail and gently spiralling steps wide enough to hold seven people across at once. He takes a few quiet steps and sweeps his light over the area below, his eyes widening at the sight. 

He thought the _ hall _ was ostentatious. What once was a spectacular ballroom stretches out from the turning base of the stairs, enormous in and dazzling in comparison to any of the rooms prior. His light catches on three enormous chandeliers overhead, and they glitter in reflection. The ceiling itself is painted in bright pastels, depicting cheerful scenes of a garden party. Overstuffed chaise lounges and gold trim tables line the columned walls, and there’s a grand piano in the furthest corner.

He descends the rest of the stairs, casting his portable light every which way. The distress signal could be coming from down here, he knows. But he sees nothing, and no one. Nothing he can find that would bear a signal, or lead to a new room. It’s seemingly a dead end. 

He pulls off his helmet with a sigh, shaking out his hair. He might as well; the atmospheric stats already confirmed the O2 and N2 saturation was sufficient to breathe, with no detectable toxins in the air. His helmet’s radio static was starting to give him a headache, too, now blaring only nonstop white noise. He looks within the casing and watches as the camera view finally blinks out. He sighs at his worthless equipment. At least his portable light still works. 

He decides to take a closer look at the furniture along the walls. Whoever made it was very much a fan of florals; the gold castings for the legs are irregular, with a jutting leaf and rose motif. A few of them are broken; some missing a leg, some with torn upholstery, one even broken in half. He pokes at the coating of dust. He can hardly imagine people in suits and ball gowns sitting on these pieces, dancing in this space, at any time in the past decade. 

He sets his helmet on one of the intact asymmetrical side tables, positioning the helmet forward out, on the off chance it starts to record again. He walks across the room into the wide open space, marveling at whoever decided to create a ballroom in a satellite orbiting along Uzu. Perhaps some weird and eccentric socialite with a death wish. The majesty of it is broken up by more scrapes and gouges in the floor. 

He wonders what happened here, as a flicker of unease curls within him. 

He’s about to turn back, when he realizes the piano in the far corner is peculiar for an altogether different reason. The closer he gets, the more he realizes it’s completely intact, and looks to be in decent shape, in comparison to the rest of the room. He presses down on a key. It’s out of tune, but here, the dust is lacking. 

Did someone play it recently? 

He pokes a few more keys, the sound echoing in the cavern of the room, curious. He hears a click, and freezes. What was that? He looks around the piano for an answer, and pauses. Something green is poking up through the cracks in the floor in the far corner behind the piano. Is that… moss? 

He then spots a seam in the wall: it’s a door that he didn’t realize was there before. He presses on it and it makes the same clicking sound from before. The door slides open into the wall space, revealing a room behind it. 

Kakashi peeks inside. It’s a side alcove, once a coat room of sorts, he guesses. He guesses, because even more moss is encroaching the space, blanketing the room from floor to ceiling. Incredibly, something is managing to grow here. 

He steps in, his boots sinking into the moss, and spots several pieces of ripped clothing on the floor, overtaken by the plants. Between that, the broken furniture, and gouges in the floor, Kakashi’s hackles start to raise. Something underneath him creaks. He tries to leave, but his momentum is stopped; his boot is caught in the moss. He hears a light scraping noises, and looks down to see tendrils start to curl loosely around his ankles. 

“Wha—!” Alarmed, he pulls his boot free, but only manages to steps backwards further into the room. He hears another crack, and the ground below his feet shudders. Before he can react, the floor collapses, swallowing him up into darkness. 

—-

Kakashi isn’t the only one running into fancier places. Raidou and Genma pass through an empty alcove, but glints of gold fleck from the dusty frames of oil paintings along the walls, along with a few scant pieces of nice furniture. 

“We might be getting closer to whoever’s still living here,” Genma comments. Raidou sure hopes so… as long as they’re friendly. 

But then they turn another corner, and are met with another dead end. “Either our navigation is messing up, or the schematics are outdated,” Genma says, poking at the wall that shouldn’t be there. 

Raidou sighs. Just great. “Let’s double back then, and try that second hallway.” 

Or at least they think they double back. They’re met with what should be the alcove they passed through, but as he steps into the room, Raidou’s foot sinks slightly into the floor. 

He jumps back a step. “What the—?” he asks, pointing his light into a sea of rich green. 

Genma makes a surprised little noise. “It looks like moss. Was that even there before?” he asks, his voice curious. 

“I can’t even tell if we’ve been in the same room or not half the time,” Raidou admits, starting to walk through the room again. “It’s like a maze.” 

“Hmm,” is all Genma says to that, following in after him. 

“Do you think the moss is there on purpose?” Raidou asks. “Like as an art thing?” He knows the ultra rich can be really weird sometimes. 

“Either way, the prior residents were definitely an eclectic bunch,” Genma agrees, picking his way across the floor. “It’s clinging to my boots,” he adds, slightly amused. 

“Really? I’m fine,” Raidou says, absent, distracted from looking all around the high vaulted ceiling. It’s painted over with clouds and cherubs, and their faces kind of freak him out. 

“Then don’t mind me going a bit slow,” Genma says from behind him. “What’s over there in the corner?” he asks.

Raidou peers at the bundle in a heap on the floor, poking at it a bit with his boot. A fur lined coat slides off the pile. It would have looked nice once, but the fur is coated in some kind of slime. Gross. 

“Just more junk,” Radiou calls back. “Who could possibly need so many coats?” he asks, exasperated. “And god, they’re all moldy, too. I don’t want to imagine the kinds of diseases you could catch from this stuff.” 

But his chatter is met with silence. “Genma?” Raidou asks, turning back, but his partner isn’t there. He spins in a circle, lighting up the room and the mossy floor, but Genma is nowhere to be found. 

“Alright,” he says, annoyed. “I know you’re making fun of me for the ax murder thing again, and you’re going to pop out and scare me. It’s not funny, Shiranui!” he shouts. 

But there’s still no response. 

“Genma?” he asks, hushed. 

Then he hears a thump, and the sound of something wet dragging along the marble hallway. Raidou starts to back away from the archway, his portable light wavering over the empty space. The noise stops for a long moment.   
  
Then, a white giant hand creeps around the frame. Raidou freezes. Then four, five, six more hands follow it. The fingers flex against the frame, dragging a large white mass into view. Several yellow eyes peer out of the growth, glowing eerie against the glare of the projected light.

And they’re all staring right at him. 

—-

“Ah!” Kakashi gasps, unable to stop his complete free fall. From this height and speed, he knows he’s going to die on impact. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for it. 

But then something snakes around his torso, under and around his arms. He opens his eyes and it’s vines surrounding him, wrapping around his limbs, slowing his fall. But now he couldn’t move even if he wanted to; the plant is holding him tight, winding securely around his legs and waist. 

He watches, more than a bit bemused, as the ground below comes slowly into view. About a foot away, he’s dropped to the ground with a thump. The vines retreat, slithering away from his arms and legs, and go twisting up into the air. He watches them climb, going up and up and up until they slip away into the darkness.   
  
Shaking his head, unsure how to process that, Kakashi instead turns back to assess the wall behind him. He runs his fingers along it; even under the ribbed padding of his gloves, the moss enveloping the wall slips under his touch, too soft and weak to grip. Even then, the incline is too steep, and too dangerous to climb the entire distance; its height is so impossibly tall he can’t even see the ceiling.   
  
It’s like there isn’t even a ceiling. But that can’t be right. 

He’s lost his portable light, too, but it isn’t dark. Flickering and fading flecks of light, much like fireflies, are drifting about, They’re lighting up the space all around him, and Kakashi can hardly believe his eyes. It’s trees. Hundreds of trees of all shapes and sizes, standing together in a microcosm of a forest. Their leaves are wafting in the breeze, and how is there a breeze? 

One of the specks of light flies close past his nose, and Kakashi realizes that they really are fireflies.   
  
It’s not only trees; plants of all seasons are blooming all around him, things Kakashi’s never seen before outside of botany books. Roses and marigolds and hibiscus and lilies, all in a dizzying rainbow. It should be impossible—it must be impossible. No internal ecosystem could sustain this level of flora on a _ satellite. _ This is mythological biotech surpassing even the famed Shodaime station. 

Kakashi pokes a nearby mushroom with his boot. He _ could _ just be high from all the potential mold and spores growing in this place, as he thinks idly of his helmet sitting on that side table, somewhere way up in the ether. Hallucinations could explain more than a few things at play.   
  
He then catches a flicker out of the corner of his eye, something brighter than the fireflies, flitting through the trees. He turns with the movement of the light, hand ready at his holster, but he freezes, realizing it’s empty. He holds his breath, waiting for whatever’s looming in this forest, and trying to think of a plan. Then the bushes to his left rustle, and Kakashi whips his head around to look. 

Two shining, reflecting eyes are staring right at Kakashi. It’s a person, at first glance, holding some kind of ring of fire. Kakashi opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the person steps closer, and he realizes that the ring of fire seems to be dancing along his shoulders, where protrusions—tendrils—are breaking through from the skin. The skin itself is pale, green tinged, and speckled with scales along the being's right side. Which is nothing compared to the horns sticking straight out of his head. Or the—wow, the _ incredible _ lack of clothing. 

This alien seals it: Kakashi's _ absolutely _ high. And should maybe stop reading so much Icha Icha. 

“What are you?” the alien asks, squinting at Kakashi. 

“Uh,” Kakashi says to his hallucination, distracted. “What?” 

He’s not sure what to expect, but it isn’t the alien suddenly grabbing him by the arms and knocking him to the ground. It all feels a bit too real. 

Oh shit, this might not be a hallucination after all. _ Oh shit. _

Kakashi thought he was strong, but the alien pins him to the grassy floor in one fell swoop, straddling his legs, and holding Kakashi’s wrists against the ground and parallel to his head in a vice grip.   
  
“What _ are _ you?” the alien hisses again, red and purple eyes inches from Kakashi’s face.   
  
“I could ask the same thing,” Kakashi responds, feigning blithe, while desperately trying to ignore the very naked—and very big—part of this alien jutting up against his thigh. “But I’m—you could say that I’m a human.”   
  
The alien furrows his brow, and sits up a bit, confused. “A human? But you aren’t ugly.”

Kakashi snorts at that. “Thanks?” He wriggles his hands but they won’t budge under the creature’s iron grip. Great. “So what are you, then?” he asks instead. “Do you live here?”   
  
The alien blinks at the questions. “I’m called Obito,” he says, absently shifting his hips in the _ worst _ way, and Kakashi bites back a moan. 

But then Obito’s eyes narrow to slits again. “You’re trespassing,” he growls.   
  
“No, I’m Kakashi,” he shoots back, a bit breathless. He’s 95% sure he’s going to die by alien, so he might as well be an annoying shit about it on the way out, especially when he’s being teased like this.   
  
Obito opens his mouth to retort, but then looks down. “You’re also aroused?” he comments, curious, as if somehow only noticing _ now. _   
  
“It’s kind of hard not to be with you pressing up against my dick,” Kakashi points out. “And that is the _ least _ sexy way you could have said that,” he adds in his critique.   
  
“Um. Sexy?” Obito leans back, considering, as Kakashi barely resists the urge to chase after his touch. “Is it _ sexy _ to say you look nice when aroused?” Obito asks, dropping his grip on Kakashi’s wrists to run nails across Kakashi’s abdomen, creeping towards his thighs.   
  
“Oh,” Kakashi swallows once, throat dry, as his traitorous dick jumps again, and he forgets why he was trying to get away in the first place. “That’s—that’s a start.”   
  
“You smell nice, too. I wonder what you taste like,” Obito adds, a hand trailing up to finger a strap on Kakashi’s uniform suit, not taking his smouldering eyes off Kakashi’s erection.   
  
Kakashi holds back another moan. He’s absolutely going to die by alien. “Why don’t you find out?” he offers, snapping open the first strap of his suit with his free hand.

_ But what a way to go, _Kakashi thinks, as Obito’s eager fingers start to pull all his clothes off.

—-

Kurenai flinches as a large burst of static erupts from her radio. She clicks off her comm device with a grimace, and watches as Asuma shakes his head. 

“Is yours static too?” she shouts through her helmet. 

The air lock of Asuma’s helmet decompresses, and he pulls it off with a groan, rubbing at his ear. “Piece of shit,” he complains.

Kurenai pulls her own helmet off with a sigh. “And we _ just _ got these refurbished, too,” she complains. Then she hears a shrill cry, and they both twist around in the direction of the noise. Kurenai tilts her head to better listen. “Is that...? 

“AhhhhHHHHHHHHH_HHHHHHHHH_**_HHHHHHHHHH!” _ **

Raidou comes barrelling down the hallway, skidding into the wall and pushing off of it, sprinting with all his might towards them. “Run run run RUN!!!” he screams. 

Behind him, a giant mass of pulsating white ooze crashes into the same spot of the wall, splashing out over the surface. It reforms, with many hands and arms shooting out of it, dragging itself rapidly across the floor. 

“What the fuck is that!” Asuma shouts, dropping his helmet with a clatter. He grabs Kurenai by the hand and they sprint after Raidou, down into the darker sloping recesses of the hall. 

Kurenai’s running as fast as she humanly can, her legs and lungs burning with the effort. She can hear the thing wheezing and splattering, closer and closer, but she doesn’t dare look behind her. She’s not going to die by this thing if she can help it. 

They turn the corner, and Raidou’s vanished. But they can’t think about that, with the fear of survival at the forefront. They run further, down more stairs when—

“Woah!” Asuma and Kurenai gasp as they fall through a broken gap, landing on something strangely soft. It makes a grunted, “Ow,” and oh, it’s Raidou.

Overhead, the mass launches itself over the gap, making a loud squelching sound as it lands. But it keeps going, skittering further and further away. They all wait, holding their breath, long after it settles into stillness. After another minute, Asuma breaks the silence with what they’re all thinking:

“What the _ fuck_.”

—-

“_ Oh fuck_,” Obito breathes out in an exhale, his mismatched eyes practically dazzling with wonder staring down at Kakashi. “That was…”

Kakashi’s lying under Obito in the soft moss of the forest floor, catching his breath as his leg slides off Obito’s back. “Mmhm,” he agrees, dazed, running a hand in Obito’s hair and thumbing a horn, in lieu of being verbal, because _ holy shit. _

“Let’s do that again,” Obito demands, voice a touch breathless as his hands go to grip Kakashi’s hips for a second round.   
  
Kakashi would usually have no objections, but, “Give me—give me a few minutes,” he pants, his arms falling with a soft thump onto the ground. He’s not a teenager anymore.   
  
“Oh. Alright,” Obito says, and _ rolls off. _   
  
Kakashi immediately goes cold. “That doesn’t mean you can’t cuddle,” he retorts as light as he can, ignoring the sting of rejection. But to his surprise, Obito rolls right back in, collecting Kakashi in his arms.   
  
“Oh, sorry. Like this?” he asks, curious, hands sweeping to rest on the small of Kakashi’s back as he settles in.   
  
Kakashi tilts his head up to kiss Obito on the chin. “Yeah,” he says, letting his lips rest against the scaled skin of Obito’s jaw. Kakashi had expected scales to be cool to the touch, but Obito’s warm all over. And Kakashi’s warm too, the low ember in his belly starting to lick its way to a fire again. 

He’s forgetting something, he’s pretty sure, but then Obito turns to kiss him, his hands shifting down to cup Kakashi’s ass for round two, and Kakashi’s thoughts go up in smoke.   
  
It’s probably not that important.   
  
—- 

“Do you think that creature is what caused the signal?” Kurenai asks, from where they’re still sitting in the space under the stairs. 

“Maybe it _ ate _ whoever sent the signal,” Raidou says with a shiver. 

“We have to do something about it,” Asuma says. “But what?”

“It’s not smart, whatever it is.” Kurenai points out. The thing is mindless enough to miss where they were hiding. “Maybe we can trap it?” She goes to push up from the ground, but her glove squishes into something. “Ack!” she cries, pulling her hand back. “What was that?”

Asuma flicks open his lighter to get a better look. It's a patch of white ooze, and it seems to be the same stuff coming from the alien. Thank goodness for their flight suits, but Kurenai doesn't want to think about whatever airborne spores they might be breathing in right now.

“What the hell is this stuff? Mold?” Asuma asks. “Is that from the monster?”

“It looks like it,” Kurenai muses, but then she shakes her head. “But mold doesn’t grow sentient. Or at least it shouldn’t.”

“Unless it’s alien mold,” Raidou argues. 

Asuma moves his lighter, and squints at an illuminated rose. “It’s not killing any of the plants, either. How are flowers growing here?”

“No clue,” Raidou says. “There was this whole floor of moss and vines in the last room Genma and I were in, too.” 

“Wait,” Kurenai asks, “then what happened to Genma?” 

—-

_ This is a new one, _ Genma thinks. One minute he was exploring that mossy room with Raidou. And in the next, he’s getting pulled right through the floor into pitch-black free fall.   
  
He’s now caught upside down in a tangle of vines, shaped vaguely in what can only be called a spider’s web, by what he can feel and see in the phosphorescent glow. His helmet’s gone, probably lost somewhere in the ether below, which knocks out his first plan to radio for help. He tries shifting around. His legs are hopelessly pinned, so he tries to shimmy his hands out of the hold.   
  
He winces, twisting his wrist, but his left hand pops out, free from the vine. Maybe if he can lean up and grab his utility knife, he can—   
  
“I feel you trying to escape,” says an eerie, echoing voice below.   
  
Genma looks down, and blinks. Below him is what looks like a human at first in shape, but the color palette is all wrong; he’s split down the middle in color, black on one side, and white on the other. His hair is green, and his eyes are glowing yellow. Strangest of all, he’s bracketed by plant leaves, like some kind of fly trap. 

“You’re an alien,” Genma says dumbly to the humanoid creature. Huh. He’s made First Contact.   
  
“And usually you things scream,” the alien retorts, a bit puzzled.   
  
Genma could make all sorts of jokes about that, but it probably would make things worse for himself. So he says, “Then they have terrible taste.”   
  
The alien squints at Genma, confused. “Do you taste better, then?” he asks.   
  
“What I mean is,” Genma hastily adds, as casual as he can make himself sound, “the half-n-half look is really suiting you. What’s your name?”   
  
“I—Zetsu,” the alien blurts out, caught off kilter. He then narrows his eyes at Genma, baring his teeth. “Why are you asking that.” 

“Well, Zetsu, I suppose you’re the one sending out the distress signal,” Genma guesses. “You must be in trouble, then?” 

“Distress?” Zetsu asks, wary. “I... sent a signal, but…” 

“Well, that’s what I translated. it’s a pretty old one, too, considering the state of the ship.”

“I didn’t _ want _ a distress signal,” Zetsu snaps, beginning to look upset. “I was sending a message to Mother! Is _ that _ why it never worked?” 

“Mother?” Genma asks, surprised. 

“I have to find her,” Zetsu chants to himself, distressed and clutching at his arms. “I need to find her.” 

“That’s got to be hard on you,” Genma consoles. Despite the situation, he’s not entirely unsympathetic to anyone, human or alien, missing their mom. “Hey, I can take a look at your messaging system,” he offers, taking a chance. “If you let me down, we can go to the control room and find out what went wrong.” 

Zetsu pauses, and narrows his eyes at Genma. “You won’t try to escape,” he says more than asks. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Genma lies. “Besides,” he grins, “it’ll be nicer to see you right side up.”

“Nicer?” Zetsu asks, cocking his head. “How?” 

“Better? More enjoyable? You’ll look even more handsome?” Genma offers wryly. 

The vines abruptly unravel and Genma is dropped to the mossy floor with a thump. At least he wasn’t as far away from the ground as he thought. He gives himself a moment, feeling the blood rushing back to his head. Zetsu gives him a hand up, and Genma instinctively takes it. 

But then Zetsu doesn’t let go of his hand, and Genma wants to laugh; this must be the alien’s grand method to make sure he doesn’t escape.

“This way.” Zetsu beckons them forward as they descend into the low glow of the cavern. 

—-

They’re on the hunt for the monster alien. Or at least, they’re on the lookout for it. An alien. What the hell. 

“Did you realize,” Raidou whispers, “that this could be First Contact?” 

“It’s going to be No Contact if we don’t survive this,” Asuma mutters back. He doesn’t want to even imagine getting caught by that thing. 

They’re wandering through a massive hall of marble columns, bracketed by dusty tapestry, when they hear a scraping and squelching noise behind them. 

“Hide!” Kurenai hisses. 

They sneak behind the left row of columns, just as something big shuffles past. It’s the monster again, slowly carving its way down the hall. Halfway across, it pauses, tilting its many heads as if waiting for something. 

They watch as a singular, humanoid white figure staggers from a doorway behind a tapestry, towards where the bigger creature is waiting. The figure collapses onto the big creature, and Asuma witnesses, a mix of horrified and fascinated, as the figure becomes gradually absorbed into the mass. Seemingly satisfied, the monster continues its journey down the hall until it’s gone again. 

“...Let’s stick with No Contact,” Raidou suggests, and Asuma and Kurenai nod emphatically in agreement. 

—-  
  
Kakashi’s leaning against Obito’s chest after their third time, admiring the little mismatched horns sticking out of Obito’s head as Obito plays absently with Kakashi’s fingers, when it hits him. Obito is an alien. An honest-to-goodness alien, and Kakashi’s made First Contact.   
  
Well. To be technical: “Do you know what this is called?” Kakashi asks, biting his lip.   
  
“What?” Obito asks, looking down, curious.   
  
He giggles into Obito’s neck. _ “Third Contact.” _

“You’re weird,” Obito says, but it sounds more fond than anything. 

—

Genma and his new alien ‘friend’ walk hand-in-hand through the moss and mushroom laden tunnels. The oozing white mold along the walls is creepy, but Zetsu seems entirely unfazed by any of it. 

“Do you really think I’m handsome?” Zetsu asks all of a sudden, turning to face Genma with wide eyes. “Meat’s never told me that before.” 

“...It’s Genma, actually, and sure, you’ve got a lot going for you,” Genma says as he shrugs a shoulder. “The glowing eyes are impressive.” 

“You’re the one with impressive eyes,” Zetsu retorts. “Brown? Who has brown eyes like that?” 

Genma blinks at that, not sure where they managed to escalate their acquaintanceship to mutual flirting. “Uh, thanks,” he says, and decides to change the subject before things get too weird. “So, you’re looking for your mother. What’s she like?” Secretly, Genma’s imagining a giant Venus fly trap. 

“Oh, my Mother!” Zetsu sighs, besotted. “Her name is _ Kaguya _ and she is wonderful and wise and powerful—!” He cuts himself off. “That’s all I’m going to tell you.” 

But the name twinges a memory. “Kaguya? Like the one from a distant moon?” Genma asks. 

Zetsu opens and shuts his mouth a few times. “How do you know that?” he accuses, suspicious. 

“There’s a really popular folktale about her: Princess Kaguya. A lot of people know it.” 

“She’s much more than a _ princess_,” Zetsu corrects, testy.

“Must be a translation error,” Genma replies easily. “Kind of like with your signal, right?” 

“Hm. Perhaps,” Zetsu concedes. “Then… Mother’s influence is still felt by the universe,” he says slowly, his eyes lighting up. “This will make my work easier, Genma!” He smiles, delighted, swinging their clasped hands back and forth. It’s utterly adorable. 

Genma smiles back, ignoring the klaxon blaring in his head. Maybe he _ shouldn’t _ have mentioned that, but he thinks he’s earned himself a few points in favor of not getting eaten. And Zetsu looks so genuinely happy. It’s kind of cute. 

Really, what does Genma know? It’s not like the folktale Kaguya’s some monster hellbent on destroying all of creation. She’s probably just as into rabbits and making mochi as her fictional counterpart.

—

They’ve been walking for awhile now, with no new signs of the monster, or the smaller beings. It’s been quiet for too long, and it’s making Asuma jumpy. 

At the end of the next hall is the entrance to a moss covered cave, carved out of natural rock, and completely out of place with the rest of the architecture. That’s not suspicious at _ all. _But there’s no other halls or doorways, and it’s their only option if they don’t turn back. 

“Let’s go,” Asuma says, steeling himself, and they journey in. But as they pass the threshold, something clicks, rumbles, and the cave opening collapses behind them. They all push and tug on the fallen rocks, but they refuse to budge. 

“Shit!” Asuma says, running his arm along his forehead to wipe off sweat. “We’re stuck.” 

“I’m sure there’s a way out,'' Kurenai says, glancing behind them into the cave proper, “we just have to find it.” 

“At least those things are trapped out there instead of in here,” Raidou points out. 

“As far as we know,” Asuma says, skeptical. 

“You know, we haven’t heard from Kakashi in a long time, either,” Kurenai tries, changing the subject at the look on Raidou’s face. “Maybe he found something?” 

“But, do you think he might be…?” Raidou trails off, looking a bit sick. 

“Nah,” Asuma says, assuring them. “We all know that bastard’s a cockroach; nothing can kill him.” 

Asuma hopes he assures them, anyway, because he sure doesn’t feel it himself.

——  
  
“Hhhghh,” says Kakashi, lying sprawled out in the aftermath of a successful Fourth Contact.   
  
“You okay?” asks Obito, running a hand along Kakashi’s back.   
  
“Mmhmm,” mumbles Kakashi, reveling in the sparking nerve endings tingling along his spine. He’s dead, perished, absolutely and wonderfully deceased. Human dicks with their realistic refractory periods have been completely ruined for Kakashi in a single afternoon, and he couldn’t be happier. 

His muscles may have turned to jelly. Maybe his brain, too. And Obito, newfound cuddle expert, pulls Kakashi in from facedown on the moss, holding him back-to-chest. They lie there for a minute or two in afterglow, Kakashi soaking in the quiet contact, with Obito’s body enveloping his. 

It’s good. 

He then feels the press of Obito’s hard cock to his backside turn a little insistent again. It’s welcome, in theory, but Kakashi’s too fucked-out for his own cock to respond in kind.

“I don’t know if I can come again,” Kakashi admits, disappointed in his stupid human limitations. 

Obito nuzzles Kakashi, mouthing lazily at his neck. He’s _ really _ getting the hang of spooning. “That’s ok,” Obito says easily, “I can take care of it myself.”   
  
“I mean,” Kakashi says, turning around in Obito’s arms to face him, “it’s not like my _ hands _ don’t work.”   
  
—-

They’re still trapped in the cave, but Asuma’s pretty sure they’ve found the source of the creatures, what with the empty people-sized pods, and what looks like a demonic vase on a plinth. Around the vase there’s a spiraling pattern of scribbled texts and iconography, but it’s all completely indecipherable. 

“This looks very evil,” Asuma whispers, eyeing the creepy glow of the writing. 

“And very cursed,” Kurenai whispers back. “What do we do?” 

“Let’s destroy it,” Raidou says. 

“What? No,” Kurenai argues, “we have no idea what will happen.” 

“We’re going to die anyway,” Raidou retorts. “We have to risk it.” 

It leaves Asuma as the tie-breaker. Shit. “As much as I see your side, Kurenai,” he says, “destroying it might be our best option.” 

“And I’ll do it,” Raidou decides. 

“Raidou, what the fuck!” Asuma hisses. “As co-captain I’m responsible for your safety!” 

But Raidou ignores Asuma and his higher rank, and steps out into the open of the cave. Asuma sighs, and he and Kurenai watch as Raidou creeps up to the vase. 

“We’ll destroy it,” Raidou mutters, his hands about to grasp the base, “and it’ll be over—“

The many hands shoot out from the mottled walls and grab Raidou. The being oozes through, larger than before, and its many mouths reshape into one gigantic one. Raidou shoots at it with a few desperate last bullets, but it absorbs the hits with ease. In one fell swoop, it swallows him whole. 

Asuma is frozen stiff, blood rushing through his ears. 

“Oh god, it _ ate _ Raidou!” Kurenai shrieks, breaking through Asuma’s stupor. She’s tugging his arm as hard as she can, yelling. “Run, Asuma!” 

The thing swivels its hundred eyes on them, and starts to drag itself forward. They twist and run in the only direction they can, deeper into the damp cave in a panic, certain to face a dead end. 

But ornate and iron-wrought doors greet them at the base of a giant wall. Asuma and Kurenai push with all their might, and they crash through the double doors into what looks like a goddamn forest. But Asuma has no time to marvel at how that exists on a satellite.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE?” he screams.

—-

“There we go!” Genma calls out in the echo of the control room, sliding out from underneath the console. No wonder Zetsu kept sending out the wrong signal; the wiring job is a complete mess. Or at least it was until Genma tackled it with a soldering iron.

Genma holds up a hand from where he’s sitting, and Zetsu grabs it, pulling him up to stand again. Once again Zetsu doesn’t let go, but this time it’s a loose clasp of the fingers. Genma could easily get free, but he doesn’t try.

Zetsu makes an awed noise at the sight of the working console. “The whole panel lights up now?”

“Yep,” Genma says, chuffed by his own handiwork. “You’ve got a whole slew of options and variables at your disposal, now.”

“And now I can try more things to reach Mother!” Zetsu says, delighted. “I’ll have to learn what I can do.”

“If you want, I can teach you more signal systems,” Genma offers on impulse.

“You—you’ll help me?” Zetsu asks, shocked.

“Of course. What better way to learn than from an expert?” Genma turns and grins at Zetsu, giddy for the adventure, too. Contact with even more aliens? He could practically kiss Zetsu for it.

Which is right when Zetsu leans in and kisses Genma instead. It's not an amazing kiss—their teeth clack together and it’s altogether chaste, but Zetsu leans back and looks at Genma, eager.

“Um,” says Genma, stunned.

“I’ve seen humans do that before. Did I do it right?” Zetsu asks, a little unsure, starting to pull away.

“Hang on,” says Genma, stilling him. “I don’t think we were on the same page the first time. Let me show you?” he asks, raising his hands to cup Zetsu’s face.

He tilts his head and leans in slowly, his hands coaxing Zetsu to shift in kind. He brushes their lips together on the first pass, and then sinks deeper into the kiss, Genma doesn’t go too far, but he wants to take it all in, and chase the earthy taste. 

But then Genma finally shifts away, and he watches as Zetsu touches his own bottom lip, more than a little dazed. “Anything else you’ve seen humans do?” Genma asks, pressing his luck.

It takes a moment, but then Zetsu pushes Genma back against the top of the console, and tears open the front of his flight suit.

“I'm going to lick every inch of your body,” the alien declares, and Genma grins. For a certain level of getting ‘eaten,’ he can’t say he minds this version.

——

Asuma and Kurenai are cornered in the clearing, trapped by the creature at the edge of a cliff looking out at the glowing forest below. The thing looms above them, arms drooping and reforming as it lets out a cacophony of hisses. Asuma and Kurenai clutch at each other. It was surely going to eat them too, just like it did Raidou. 

“Kurenai,” Asuma starts, “if we die, or get assimilated, I wanted to say, I’ve always lov—“

Suddenly, a voice booms, interrupting the heartfelt farewell: “Worry not, my friends! I’m here to help!” 

They both look up, and Gai is standing above them on the branch of a mighty oak. He’s clad in nothing but his underwear and tattered boots, but otherwise appears unscathed. He swings his arms and leaps from the tree, tackling the monster at the top of its head. The many mouths screech, and the arms scrabble up as it and Gai both topple over the side of the cliff. 

“Gai!” Kurenai and Asuma yell, running over to the edge of the cliff face. But the weight of the monster has shifted the ground where it slid off, and the edge begins to crumble under their feet. Before they can react, the weak soil gives way, and they both tumble into the depths below. 

—-  
  
Kakashi and Obito are taking their time after Fifth Contact, with Obito _ finally _ spent, and kissing slow and sweet as if long-time lovers. 

Kakashi feels a vine brush against his arm. “I was meaning to ask,” Kakashi says as he breaks away. “Were those vines that caught me earlier your doing?” 

Obito nods. “You could say that. They work off my emotions and instincts.” 

“So your instincts rescued me even when you didn’t know me,” Kakashi realizes. For some reason, it makes him feel all warm and gooey inside.

“I guess I knew I didn’t want you to get hurt,” Obito says, brushing a thumb across Kakashi’s cheek. Kakashi can feel more vines snaking around, gently surrounding them both. 

“What do your instincts say now?” he asks.   
  
“To stay with me,” Obito purrs. “Stay with me forever.”   
  
As ridiculous and whirlwind-romance-novel as it all is, Kakashi _ wants _ that. He doesn’t think he can live without this. But, “We could try dating,” Kakashi suggests instead, barely stopping himself asking Obito’s hand in marriage in an equally intense declaration. _ One _ of them ought to be reasonable here. 

“Does that mean staying,” Obito asks, hopeful as he holds onto Kakashi’s hands. 

“I…” Kakashi starts. “As much as I want to, but don’t think my team would leave me behind that easily,” he admits. But maybe he could convince Obito to come with him too. 

“Team?” Obito asks, blinking. “You mean there’s more than just you here?” 

“Yes…?” Kakashi says. “We were answering a distress signal this satellite sent out,” which Kakashi definitely did not forget about until this moment. “I assume you sent it?” 

“A ‘distress’ signal?” Obito says, baffled, but then winces. “Uh oh.” 

Kakashi narrows his eyes slightly. “Hang on, ‘Uh oh,’ what?”

“That wasn’t me, but I’m not the only one here, either,” Obito admits. 

What. Kakashi opens his mouth to respond when he hears a rumble in the distance, along with an unintelligible scream. The rumbling grows, and then a giant mass breaks through the distant trees, with _ Gai _ riding on top of it like a rodeo bull. 

Obito pulls Kakashi up to stand. Kakashi nabs his long discarded flight suit and pulls it halfway on, ready to fight, or run, or _ something_. But Obito stands in front of Kakashi, directly in the path of the monster. He steps forward and bops the monster in one of its many foreheads with the palm of his hand. It staggers back, and Gai is thrown backwards into the bush as the being breaks apart into a pile of several white humanoids, all shambling about. Raidou, of all people, is standing in the middle of it, covered in white slime and completely confused.

“Um,” says Raidou.   
  
“Huh,” says Kakashi, staring at the mess. 

“Raidou! Gai! Are you okay?!” Kurenai cries, running up to their crewmates, Asuma not far behind her. They both completely covered in dirt and moss, with Asuma missing both his sleeves and half of a suit leg. 

“Hey, Kurenai,” Kakashi steps out and waves to his crewmate, zipping up the rest of his own suit with his other hand. “Have you met Obito?”   
  
Kurenai startles. “Kakashi?! Where the hell have _ —Wow! _ Woah, has _ Obito _ not heard of pants yet?” she asks, looking up pointedly towards the ceiling. Asuma’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.   
  
Obito looks down at himself and flicks a hand, a tattered pair of black hakama materializing on him. “How’s that?” 

“Oh, what else can you do with that?” Kakashi asks, appraising.

Obito gets a wicked little smile on his face. “Well—“

“Are we fighting another alien? Please say no,” Raidou weakly interrupts, causing the rest of the crew to tense for action. 

Fuck being reasonable. “You’re not fighting my true love,” Kakashi declares, while keeping himself between his crew and Obito. Kakashi risks a glance at Obito; they didn’t exactly finish their talk about their relationship, but Obito looks very pleased by the title.   
  
It’s Kurenai’s turn for raised eyebrows. Asuma’s crooked cigarette nearly drops out of his mouth.   
  
“Legally, my partner,” Kakashi clarifies. “And as my partner that means,” he adds, slipping his hand into Obito’s own as he thanks the stars for Senju Hashirama’s questionable policy decisions, “that he can be awarded rights as companion to a citizen on Konoha Station.” 

“Kakashi,” Asuma starts, pulling his cigarette out of his mouth. 

“Hm?” Kakashi asks. 

“You’ve been gone for less than three hours.” 

“Yes.”

“And in that time you’ve found a boyfriend—”

“Partner, as you can see.”

“—Who’s an unknown _ space alien _ that you want to take with us.” 

“And the problem is…?”

“You’ve got to be _ fucking _ joking—“   
  
“CONGRATULATIONS, RIVAL!” Gai hollers, leaves sticking out of his hair. “I can see you and Obito are both passionate and hip for each other!” A tear streaks down his cheek, and he wipes it off with a manly scrape of his knuckles. “I wish you both a long and happy union!” 

“Oh. Thanks, Gai,” says Kakashi, surprised and oddly touched. Obito just glances at Kakashi, bemused. Kakashi shrugs, not sure how to explain Gai to anyone, let alone an alien.

Asuma scrubs at his face and lights a new cigarette. “Fine! Congrats to you. Fuck. This has got to be the weirdest day of my life.”

Of course, Genma takes that moment to fall through the ceiling in a flurry of vines, being bridal carried by a black and white creature.

“Was someone messing with my Demonic Statue?” the creature asks everyone, as Asuma, Kurenai and Raidou all pointedly look away.

“Hi guys,” Genma greets instead, as if his flight suit wasn’t completely torn up, displaying hickies all over his neck and chest. “What’d I miss?”

“I need to sit down,” Raidou says, leaning heavily against Gai, who pats his moldy shoulder.

“Zetsu, your clones are loose,” Obito says to the other alien, glancing over at one of the white stragglers attempting to crawl under a bush.

Zetsu scoffs. “I’m sure they didn’t eat anyone important. But Obito! Genma promised he’ll help us find Mother!” he says, excited, lifting up Genma.

“Mother?” Kakashi whispers to Obito.

“Our Mother, Kaguya,” Obito murmurs back, and Kakashi blinks at the familiar name. “I don’t remember her but Zetsu’s sure she’s somewhere.”

“Genma _ promised,” _ Zetsu insists, and Genma has the grace to look a little sheepish at the declaration.

“I kind of did,” Genma says.

“Maa, well, if it’s for family. We’ll need to find her to invite her to our wedding, too, won’t we?” Kakashi comments idly.

Asuma chokes on his cigarette smoke. Kurenai looks like she’s trying not to laugh, while Gai looks ready to cry more tears of joy.

But Obito stares at Kakashi, wide eyed, and Kakashi wonders if he’s taking this too far. “We don’t have to have a wedding,” he tries to assure Obito. “I don’t even know if you know what a wedding is—“

“Bakashi,” interrupts Obito, and Kakashi feels oddly delighted by the insulting nickname.“I know what marriage is; Grandpa Madara mentioned it.” He wrinkles his nose, adding, “or yelled a lot about it and somebody named Hashirama.”

Kakashi stares at Obito. Madara? as in Notorious and Legendary Space Pirate _ Uchiha Madara? _

“But do you mean it?” Obito continues, squeezing Kakashi’s hand. “About being partners and everything?”

Kakashi blinks out of his shock and smiles. Questions about space pirates and moon princesses can wait. He squeezes Obito’s hand back.

“I do,” Kakashi says.


End file.
